


If Your Body Matches What Your Eyes Can Do

by Useless_Reptile



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, PWP, Rimming, Smut, Top Viktor, idk i suck at tags, sexy sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 15:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9553733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Useless_Reptile/pseuds/Useless_Reptile
Summary: Just some purest porn without plot that we all need sometimes. Enjoy it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Floris_Oren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floris_Oren/gifts).



> So this happened. I meant it to be just a writing exercise but it managed to make it here. Still very self-conscious about writing in a foreign language (especially this kind of stuff) but hey, we need challenges in our life. Any comments on the language are welcomed.
> 
> P.S. I guess I kinda have a thing for naming fics by song lines lol Not sure if it fits but I haven't come up with anything better. Also this song is kinda their song for me, so yeah.

They stumbled into their room, Yuuri pulling Viktor by the tie and then shoving him against the door effectively shutting it. He crushed their lips greedily, one hand at the nape of the taller man's neck, the other slipping down to grip the Russian's ass possessively. He brought their groins flush, and Viktor breathed out heavily into his mouth, heat rising up. He raises his hands about to put them all over the Japanese, but Yuuri stops this initiative, taking hold of his wrists and pinning him to the door both sides of Viktor's head. Viktor can't help but chuckle through the kiss: who could've thought that such ferocity has been contained inside his pure sweet Katsudon all this time. That was the first time Yuuri was taking the upper-hand and Viktor fucking loved it. 

Still it wasn’t like Viktor was going to let him top. He wrenched his wrists free of Yuuri's grip, broke the kiss reluctantly and pushed the Japanese in the direction of the bed, slipping out of the jacket and tugging his tie loose as he walked, want in his hooded eyes. Yuuri's stomached lurched at this view almost making him lose part of his fervor. He was already at the bed, the back of his knees against its edge, and watched Viktor approach, slow and inevitable. All of a sudden he felt like a prey hunted down by a predator, with nowhere to run or hide, and boy, did that turn him on.

As the other man neared, Yuuri tried to regain control over the situation reaching for another impatient kiss and getting hold of Viktor's belt. The kiss was granted to him, the belt thing - no. Viktor torn his hands away not so gently and then spun the Japanese around keeping his arms fixed behind the back. Yuuri's breath caught in his throat. He could feel the warm breath on his neck, and then lips, and then teeth that were unmistakably leaving the marks, and Yuuri knew he would have to wear a turtleneck for the following two or three days. Though he didn't think he would actually care about who might think what. He was not going to be ashamed of belonging to Viktor. Never ever. 

Viktor lets go of Yuuri’s arms for a moment, only to seize the hem of his training shirt and pull it over his head throwing the piece of clothes aside. The next second his long-fingered hands are snaking all over Yuuri’s bare torso, burning their way down to the rim of his pants and under it. Yuuri melts into sensation as he tilts his head backwards exposing his neck to the onslaught of Viktor’s kisses and bites. He lets out a whine when the hand palms his half-hard cock through his briefs providing just the right amount of pressure to slowly drive Yuuri crazy. He is already a mess, small cries leaving his throat and legs shaking and it doesn’t help to feel Viktor’s own hard-on grinding into his ass and hear him groan. 

The Russian gets impatient and pushes the shorter man forward, onto the bed, then feverishly frees himself from the rest of his clothes. Yuuri props himself up and rolls on the side watching Viktor with a hazed look. As the Russian gets on to bed looming over him, Yuuri extends an arm to pull him into another heated kiss, but Viktor just rest the hand on his shoulder making him - ordering him - to roll back on his belly. The Japanese obliges enjoying the weight and heat of the other’s body on his back. 

“Kinky bastard”, he smirks and earns himself a bite on the earlobe.

“Didn’t hear you complain”, Viktor mumbles against his skin, voice low and hoarse, fingers dancing down Yuuri’s ribs. Then, in one swift rough motion, he pulls Yuuri’s sweatpants down to his knees together with the briefs, then dragged his teeth over the skin of his ass. Yuuri cried out when he felt the hot tongue between the cheeks, its tip finding the coil of muscles. It’s merciless, and the Japanese is writhing and wiggling, every breath is a high-pitched moan, fingers clutching the stainless white of the sheets, as Viktor is taking his time to ensure Yuuri loses his mind. 

The tongue is soon replaced with a finger, already lubricated (when did Viktor even managed to take out the lube?). It doesn’t bring that maddening type of pleasure, it hurts, but Yuuri enjoys the feeling of being filled, and Viktor can tell as he soon adds another one. Yuuri hisses and bites his lips as two fingers are doing scissors inside of him, fingernails torturing the sensitive sides of his rectum. It still stings but not so much, pain is subsiding as he is being stretched, so Yuuri only winces a little at the third finger joining the other two. 

For the time that Viktor had been his coach, the Russian learnt to be patient with his student. So now, despite the burning need melting his self-control down, despite his intent not to be gentle this night, he was still taking time to prepare his lover. Being rough and actually hurt are two different things. He would never willingly cause any pain to his beloved Yuuri. At least not the type he wasn’t craving for.

The rustle of a condom wrapper teared sends Yuuri’s heart racing in anticipation. He sounds completely helpless as after a few seconds of fumbling Viktor’s length enters his body in one smooth steady motion. Victor tilts his back back and lets out a low groan. his back arching, fingers digging into the Japanese’s thighs. Despite all that stretching Yuuri feels so damn tight and perfect around him that this in itself is almost enough to send him over the edge. He leans forward and covers the other man’s back with his body, hands both side of his lover, the fingers of the right one splayed next to Yuuri’s, their matching rings glistening in the dim light. 

The second thrust is more demanding, and Viktor unmistakably hits that sweet spot inside Yuuri from which pleasure shoots to each cell of his body making him cry out, defenceless against the onslaught of sensations and craving to surrender. Victor’s breath is hot on his neck, raising the short hair at its base and sending goosebumps running along the spine, beautifully arched right now. Viktor can’t resist the urge and slides his hand along it, all the way from the small of Yuuri’s back to his neck, then cups his jaw in his fingers, the index and middle ones finding the parted lips and sliding inside the hot mouth. They start to move back and forth, in sync with Viktor’s thighs, and to Yuuri this seems more wanton an act then the dick up his ass. His own hard-on is pulsing and leaking and begging for attention, and Yuuri whines and wiggles unable to free a hand to reach there. Fortunately, Viktor knows exactly what his lover needs. Not that he would give it to him easily. He pulls the fingers out of Yuuri’s mouth and reaches between his legs giving the cock a light two-finger stroke, saliva on the digits smoothening the friction. The Japanese swears, and Viktor is pleased with himself: Yuuri’s tongue doesn’t often get dirty. Still that’s not what he wants to hear. A few more slow maddening strokes, the edge of the thumbnail drawing circles around the slit in the head smearing the precum, and Yuuri begs. That’s it.

Viktor stops the torture and takes the cock properly in his palm, setting a steady rhythm as his hands moves along the length. His thrusts become more rough and unmeasured, breaking the pace as Viktor is not able to contain his greed for Yuuri anymore. He feels his lover shake beneath him, hears him moan and swear and plead, smells his sweat reeking of lust, this mind-blowing combo nearing him to the peak. Then Yuuri’s voice reaches its height as his whole body convulses in sweet agony, and suddenly Viktor’s fingers are dripping with liquid, the cock in his hand going mellow and limp. As if in a relay-race, he follows right away, a few more rushed desperate thrusts before he’s drained up to the last drop. Yuuri finally lets his hands give way and plops to the bed, Vicktor on top of him. They lie in silence for a few minutes, savouring the aftertaste of each other.At the edge of his fogged consciousness Yuuri notes Viktor sliding out of him and the sound of a filled condom hitting the bottom of a waste bin. It suddenly gets chilly without the Russian’s body covering his own, but the comforting warmth soon returns. Viktor moves both of them to the side of the bed that is not messed up with cum and pulls the blanket over the two of them. Snuggled against Viktor’s chest, his hand around the waist and his breath in the hair, Yuuri hums contently and slips into sleep, with Viktor’s heartbeat against his back as a lullaby.


End file.
